


A Taste of Gotham

by DraceDomino



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bad Ending, Creampie, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Other, Pheromones, Rape/Non-con Elements, Submission, Tentacles, Triple Penetration, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 22:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16820092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraceDomino/pseuds/DraceDomino
Summary: An apartment complex in downtown Gotham has been silent for too long - and nobody that's gone inside has come back out. Cassandra Cain has been dispatched to find out what's going on, but it won't be long before she realizes this bat is in far, far, far over her head.





	A Taste of Gotham

A Taste of Gotham  
-by Drace Domino

“According to the police reports, nobody that’s gone into the apartment complex has come out again.” Oracle’s voice had a measured level of patience, but Cassandra could tell that she was upset. She always was when she felt that the GCPD wasn’t doing everything they reasonably could, especially when they were so insistent on disparaging vigilantes in the news. “This has apparently been going on for a week, and they still haven’t done anything.”

“I see it.” Cassandra’s voice was soft and short, delivered once the girl rested after a particularly long leap across rooftops. She had the apartment complex in question within her gaze, and her eyes narrowed as she took in what little she could. Barely lit windows, bricks that looked like they were slightly displaced, and a fire escape that had seemingly busted from its hinges and was merely dangling by a few lucky bolts. Not too different from any of the other drug dens in Gotham, but something somehow felt...off. “Why now?”

Oracle knew exactly what the girl was referring to - why the city’s best hacker, the eyes of the vigilante community, had taken a week to get wise to the matter.

“It’s being kept off official records.” She murmured, her voice ringing with a bit of disgust. “I’m guessing it’s because someone at city hall has a nephew that’s involved, that’s usually enough to get a couple of people to cover their tracks. Dad can only do so much when the entire department has people that can be pressured.”

“I don’t care whose nephew’s inside.” Cassandra murmured through the comm, and leapt into the air once more. At the height of her jump she unleashed her grappling hook and took a precise shot, one that ziplined her to one of the darkest windows in the complex. With deft grace and agility she soon found herself braced to the bricks, and one hand lowered to start gently pulling the window up. Her voice was particularly quiet now, barely a whisper and certainly the last words she’d be offering for a while. “Inside. Quiet.”

Though Oracle said nothing else, the soft whisper of a second of static told Cassandra that Oracle agreed. In truth, neither of the women expected the mysterious apartment complex to yield anything truly dangerous...at least, not dangerous to women of their caliber. What could it possibly be? A couple of underworld goons squatting and treating the place as a safehouse? A bunch of drug dealers that decided to set up shop in the outskirts of town? Worst case scenario was one of Arkham’s finest using the place as a new headquarters, but it hardly fit any of their styles. Too urban for Poison Ivy, too dry for Croc, too...boring for Harley.

As Cassandra finally opened the window and slipped inside, it became immediately clear to her that whatever was going on...it certainly wasn’t something traditional. Even underneath her light frame she could hear the ground make a squishing noise as she landed, and it felt uneven and particular warm under her heels. The room was too dark even for her trained eyes and so she quickly flashed about with a light; briefly sweeping it from one side to the other before dropping back into darkness.

In that small flash, she had seen a lot. Enough that Cassandra immediately hopped out of the window and back to the side of the building, clinging to the edge with one hand as she spoke to the comm link once more.

“Oracle.” Her voice dropped over the line, quiet and careful. “Wall to wall it was covered in...they looked line vines, but…”

“It can’t be Poison Ivy.” Oracle murmured, sounding immediately set against the notion. “Batwoman just had brawl with her on the West side of Gotham. She’s sitting in a holding cell right now.”

“Not Ivy. They’re not really vines.” Cassandra murmured, and underneath her mask and cowl wore a sour, distasteful frown. “Thicker...looked almost like rubber. Wet, too, and spongy. Covered the floors, the walls, and there were...pods.”

“Pods?”

“Like a pea pod, only bigger.” Cassandra murmured, and took another short peek inside the window. It was still pitch black, but some dim light from the very end of the hall suggested there was more to discover. With a deep breath and an uneasy feeling in her belly, Cassandra whispered once more as she started to slide back in the apartment. “Going back in. Find out what’s going on.”

“...be careful, Cassandra.”

Usually, Cassandra would’ve shrugged off those words. She didn’t need to be careful when she was so completely skilled - but this time, she was already getting the impression that it wouldn’t be enough. With soft footsteps and feather-light movements the heroic young woman darted inside and began to creep deeper into the complex, moving towards the spot of light far down the hall.

And silently, without Cassandra noticing, the window behind her drifted closed.

***

The strange, rubbery vines served not only as the walls but the floor as well, and as Cassandra moved deeper into the hall she found herself walking over increasingly unstable ground. The squishing noises continued with her harder steps and sometimes the coils moved and shifted at her touch, responding to her contact like they were living things. Though she was considering time desperately of the essence, Cassandra still had the chance to look to either side of the walls and noticed the same thing - flexing, pulsing, shifting...whatever was doing this to the complex, it wasn’t anything she or the others of the Bat Family had ever encountered.

It would have been smart to retreat. Ask Oracle to contact Zatanna or John Constantine. Cassandra knew as much as she finally found the light at the end of the hall, and still she ignored that sound advice as she rounded the corner to see where it led. Instantly her eyes went wide behind her mask and she gave an audible gasp. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking at, but she knew it was the stuff of nightmares.

The light was coming from the large pods that filled the room; each one the size of a person and glowing with a dim orange hue. The pod itself was a rich purple in color that blended from bright to almost black, and within the newfound light Cassandra could tell that it matched the rest of the vines perfectly. There was a smell in the air that wasn’t particularly unpleasant but was still firmly unnatural, and in that room of writhing horror she could practically feel her skin crawl below her suit. She already knew...this was too big for her. Whatever fight this would lead to was one she couldn’t win.

But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try. As Cassandra darted towards a large pod in the center of the room, she could make out the outline of something within it starting to shift. A humanoid shape, half-obscured by film of the pod, pressing hands against the surface as if desperately trying to escape.

“Someone’s inside! I’m breaking them free!” Cassandra spoke out loud enough for Oracle to wince on the other side of the comm, and the girl quickly dove into action. Her hands pressed to a long seam running down the front of the pod and she used every ounce of strength she could muster to peel it apart down the center. As a sickeningly wet, sticky noise filled the room that orange hue grew a little brighter, and within the light Oracle could see the victim within. A man - naked, coated in golden residue, trembling as he stared with vacant eyes into the exposed room around him.

“I...I…”

“It’s okay, you’ll be all right.” Cassandra spoke swiftly, reaching for the man and grasping her hands against his waist. No sooner did she attempt her rescue did the man’s seemingly limp arms fly into sudden motion, pushing against her chest and shoving her several steps back. As she recovered Cassandra watched with widening eyes and a sinking feeling as the man violently twitched from side to side, spasming in his naked state as his voice called out once more.

“I submit! I submit! I submit!” His voice sounded hoarse as if he had been shrieking for hours, tears marking his eyes and a look on his face seemingly torn between joy and terror. As he called out those words something at the base of the pod started to pulse and pull, starting at his ankles and slowly yanking him down into a void. “I submit! I submit!”

By the time Cassandra returned to him, he had been pulled to just above his knees. Whatever was swallowing him did it in heavy gulps that took several inches of his body at a time, and as Cass gazed at the floor she saw nothing but an airtight pucker of purple muscle gripping around his legs. As if he was being sucked through a pair of massive, tight lips the man kept slipping further down, and Cassandra did her best to cling to him.

“No! Fight! Help me!” Cassandra’s voice filled the air in a growing state of frustration, wrapping her arms around the man and pulling as firmly as she could. This time, he didn’t seem intent on fighting back so much as hanging onto her, though it wasn’t for his own recovery. He clung his arms around her neck and did what he could to pull her down as well, yelling in a voice that echoed with horror, torment, and strangely, excitement.

“Submit with me! Submit with me!” As Cassandra desperately tried to save him from that fate, her keen senses took in the sight of everything going on in that room of horrors at that very moment. The other pods filling the room - nine of them in total - had similar human silhouettes within them that were starting to descend deeper into the pod. She could hear the sound of slurping and swallowing from every angle as they fell, and even the muffled whimpers of “I submit, submit with me, I submit, submit with me” from inside the shells they occupied. With an increasing state of panic filling her Cassandra did her best to balance between trying to save the man and avoid getting sucked down with him, and as she did so she noticed the state of his body.

He was covered in the orange residue that gave the pod its dull glow, and his eyes remained vacant even as he chanted and fought. What she noticed most of all; however, was the fact that the entire time he was swallowed by the writhing unnatural mess at his feet, his member was exposed, fully erect, and almost constantly climaxing. He squirted again and again as the creature gobbled him up, and the most intense climax happened mere seconds before it pulled him down above the waist. That particular squirt of cum was an enormous blast that marked the front of Cassandra’s outfit all the way up over the front of her mask, splashing against her in a wet, warm streak that she could feel through the material against her face.

Ultimately, Cassandra Cain failed to save that poor civilian. Like the other nine in the room, he was swallowed up but whatever monstrosity was doing this, and she had to release him lest he pull her into the nightmare as well. The last thing she saw of him was that glazed look in his eyes before his head disappeared below that pucker, and as soon as he did the muscles tightened so fiercely it was hard to notice that there was ever an opening to begin with.

Cassandra, braced on her hands and knees, tensed with fury. She was glazed with the residue that coated that unfortunate soul, marked with the cream of his last mortal orgasm, and shaken to her core at what she had just witnessed. Ten lives gone, just like that! Pulled from their pods and into the writhing, shifting floor - swallowed up, never to be seen or heard from again. Cassandra knelt with her head lowered and her hands on the ground, quaking with the rough emotions that battered against her. Failure was...never easy. But to be so close to something so horrific…

“Cassandra? Cassandra, please respond.” Oracle’s voice slipped out, worry riding in every word. “Cassandra, you need to get out of there, we need to form a team to handle this proper-”

“Raaaaaaaargh!” It wasn’t like the former Black Bat to give in to an emotional outburst, but some things made too deep, too penetrating an impression. With anger and frustration rising within her Cassandra unsheathed a batarang and held it like a dagger in both hands, suddenly plunging it down to where that grotesque pucker swallowed up the civilian. For once, the squishing noise was satisfying to hear - as was the shriek that filled every last hall of the apartment complex. Her grim satisfaction ended there; however, and very quickly Cassandra Cain realized that she had just made a tremendous mistake.

As the walls came alive and reached out for her, Cassandra’s voice crept out in a tone that was perhaps the most genuine, honest, and heartfelt she had ever offered.

“...thank you for everything, Barbara.” She murmured, with full expectation that it would be the last time Oracle heard her voice. “You were my sister.”

***

It was not; as Cassandra had expected, the last time Oracle would hear her voice. That distinct honor went to the litany of screams, grunts, and moans that would follow over the course of the next hour, delivered over the squishing cacophony brought by the tentacles of the writhing monstrosity that Cassandra had angered. Conversely, Cassandra was able to hear everything Oracle said during those initial few moments, from the gasps of surprise and concern to the solemn vows that she was sending people to help, to the outright sobbing and swearing that came when she was positive that her friend was lost. Everything that Cassandra was unable to respond to, since the creature that came for her was so intensely overwhelming.

The attacks came from every angle. The walls themselves seemed to snake out for her in the form of countless tentacles and tendrils, and even the floor shifted into coils that wrapped around her legs up to the knee and held her firmly in place. With speed and precision so fierce that not even Cassandra’s incredible reflexes were able to dodge, purple tentacles ensnared her arms and coiled around her waist, while another whipped around her throat and constricted tight enough to steal some of the girl’s breath. One tentacle tightened upon her wrist until she dropped her batarang as another one wisely moved for her utility belt - whipping it fiercely at the buckle to shatter the locking mechanism before coiling around it and yanking it away. As that golden belt was ushered through the mass of writhing tentacles deeper into the apartment Cassandra watched it go with a quiver of fear deep within her - that belt would have been her only, last hope for getting out of this horror, and when it rounded the corner and disappeared so too did her chance at survival.

Still...she would fight. Even if this was her last one, she would fight. With a roar of fury Cassandra drew on the things she was taught, both by her father and by the man that made a better father, and every muscle she had toned and trained up to that point in her life strained like it never had before. She put up more of a fight than most - perhaps even more of a fight than everyone that came before - but even as she ripped one arm free of the tentacles and managed to kick a single leg free, she knew she was only delaying the inevitable. A passionate flare of violence, but an ultimately pointless one.

With a loud, squishy slap a new tentacle snaked around her leg, and to punish her for such insolence all of those wriggling members forced the girl down to her knees with a heavy thud. The one coiled about her throat squeezed all the harder to continue sapping her of breath, though her battle-trained body could tell - it was trying to keep her conscious. It could have snapped her neck like a twig if it wanted, but that clearly wasn’t the desire. That fact, more even than the threat of death, frightened her like she had never felt before.

Tentacles lashed out, and Cassandra cried out again and again as she felt them crash against her flesh, snagging her costume and tearing away large, wide strips of the material. She felt a single breast suddenly pop free from an opening and another spot left exposed across her stomach, soon to be followed by places on her arms and legs. She was left sore and battered as the tentacles lashed at her and was powerless to stop as two of them moved up between her thighs, and with a focused precision that spoke of a clear dark intelligence grasped at the material from both sides and ripped it away to leave her tender pussy unguarded.

And Cassandra, whose quivering and gasping voice was still crisp in Oracle’s ear, found herself whimpering in a state that shamed her to her core.

“No...no...don’t...no…”

Both Oracle and Cassandra felt powerless in that moment, though it was safe to say the latter girl was receiving the worst of it. As Cassandra let a few tears slide underneath her mask she felt the first tentacle creep close to her pussy; coiled around her thigh and inching nearer and nearer. They spread her legs to make sure there was plenty of room for what was bound to be an enormous insertion, and every tentacle holding her squeezed fiercely to keep her in place. When it finally pushed inside Cassandra’s scream filled the apartment complex, Oracle’s comm device, and her own senses. She hated feeling powerless. She hated screaming. And in that moment, she was absolutely sure both those things would be the failures that carried her to her final breath.

As the tentacle stretched her pussy and wove deeper within her, others moved to abuse the girl in different fashions. Two tightened around her breasts and coiled at their base, squeezing and tugging them while smaller tendrils snapped at her nipples. The one holding her throat released it so it could slap her face through the fabric of her mask, gliding across it and leaving a wet, dense residue that made it difficult for her to gulp down breath without a rich, smoky flavor filling her throat. Tentacles wove into her hands, around her ankles, even lashed free the fabric of her costume that covered her pert little ass, though she found herself unable to worry about the implications of such measures when that first tentacle was driving in and out of her tender, wet hole.

It was too big, too fast, too hard...the sounds that filled the air were wet and lewd, flesh clapping on flesh with a sticky nectar in the middle. And as it drove into her, fucking steadily and firmly and plunging within like nothing ever had, Cassandra’s horror found a way to grow even more intense.

A voice in her ear. In her head. Not Oracle’s.

“Submit to me.”

Cassandra didn’t scream so much as sobbed the word “no,” and she paid for her unruly behavior by feeling another tentacle press against her ass. It was well-lubed by the slimy nectar that covered each of those throbbing lengths, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear as it stretched her hole and shoved deep inside. Soon the two were pistoning within her while the other tentacles controlled her body like a puppet on writhing strings, fucking her back and forth in between the two to ensure she took each as far as she could. Her whimpers, her sobs, her desperate noises of sorrow continued, and all she received in return for her torment was that voice again in her head. Harder this time, more aggressive, more demanding.

“Submit to me!”

This time she couldn’t even sob a refusal, her voice stolen by the ache within her and the inability to breathe against the slime-coated mask. Worst yet, and perhaps worst of all in that dark evening, Cassandra felt a surge of wicked pleasure coil through her. Instantly she knew it was something not born of her own desires - something foul, something venomous within her that compelled a surge of lust through her thighs. Still...she was wet. She was raw. And even though her experiences were limited - to say the least - she was more sexually delighted in that moment then she had ever been in her life.

Her pussy tightened around that invading tentacle without her consent, and she found her hips bucking back and forth between it and the one inside of her ass even though she actively fought against it. Her nipples were stiff against the attentions of the tiny tendrils teasing them, and her hands were clenched in fists only so that they could better grab, squeeze, and stroke the tentacle cocks shoved within them. Her body was betraying her, waves of pleasure crashed against her with intense ferocity while leaving an aftertaste of shame and venom, and the physical delight that coursed through her body forced her to envision the man she had failed to save. The glazed look in his eyes, the way he was so ready to submit, the orgasms that rolled through his worn and weary body until he was finally swallowed whole.

He wasn’t just a civilian Cassandra Cain had failed to save - he was her future.

“Submit to me!” The voice in Cassandra’s head roared once more, and this time a tentacle slapped against her chest and squeezed right up underneath the bottom edge of her mask. Before Cassandra could give a cry of refusal it pushed past her lips and into her mouth, wrapping about her tongue and wrestling it to the bottom of her mouth. Cassandra’s sobbing was now muffled with the weight of a tentacle in her mouth, dropping down so far as to bulge her throat and choke her on its flavor. Beneath the mask her tears intensified, and within her clocktower Oracle could hear the strangled grunts, the choking gasps, and the sniffling of a panicked girl in a losing battle.

Oracle’s voice on the other end of the comm was nothing but static to Cassandra now - lost in the sickeningly wet noises of those tentacles pounding her holes, and her mind no longer having the sense to do anything other than cling to her last remnants of precious sanity. Fucked in all three of her tender holes, she was helpless as whatever horrible creature this was delighted itself. Again and again it plunged into her, those tentacles ramming faster and faster until its voice roared out anew, even angrier than before but carrying no small amount of joy.

“Submit to me!”

As it called out to hear it unleashed is torrent; a dozen tentacles cumming at once. Nine of them fired their squirt across Cassandra’s body in a sudden wash of residue; dashed over her breasts, across the half-torn patches of her uniform, over her bulging mask, webbed between the bat ears. Three luckier tentacles had the profound joy of cumming inside of the captive girl, flooding her mouth, pussy, and ass in perfect tandem and sending her into shockwaves of orgasmic bliss that she would resent her body over for the remainder of her minutes left on the planet.

As the tentacles pumped their residue within her, warmth and delight filled Cassandra in a fashion that broke her even further. Shattered her. She squirted, she spasmed, she shivered and twitched like she never had before, and even with her eyes shut tight she could’ve sworn she saw a vibrant flash of light cross over her vision. It was the single most glorious moment she had ever felt, and it came firmly in the middle of the worst thing to ever befall her. Her walls were pumped full of cum, her belly filled with it to the point that she could feel it churning within her upon every movement, and she could even feel it dripping across her flesh from any one of a dozen different sources. The creature wasn’t just filling her with cum, it was bathing her in it.

And Cassandra, with precious little thoughts of her own left, relished in it. So distracted she was, so enamoured by her sudden orgasm and that blinding light, that she didn’t even notice that the walls of a pod were slowly building around her.

And she wouldn’t notice until much, much later.

***

Minutes passed. Perhaps hours. Days? For all she knew, it could have been weeks. Cassandra Cain’s body had become the fucktoy plaything of that vile creature, and she could barely remember a time that she wasn’t. The walls of the pod were a glowing orange, and everything around her was little more than a dim silhouette. She found herself pressing her hands against the walls of her prison, but not to escape...only to brace herself as she was fucked again and again and again by the tentacles that joined her.

The creature never seemed to tire, and much to Cassandra’s surprise...neither did she. Her little holes might have been sore in the moments when they weren’t filled with cock, but once tentacles wove inside of her she felt nothing but joy and delight. Like a nest of snakes the tentacles wrapped around every inch of her, squeezing and writhing, caressing and fondling. Sometimes they fawned across her cheeks after pulling away that mysterious bat mask, sometimes they slapped her ass in firm punishment for the misbehaving girl she used to be. Mostly they just fucked her...squirted within her...and made her moans fill the tiny pod enclosing her.

The voice hadn’t spoken to her in some time - at least not by her own admittedly foggy memory. By the time it finally did, there was no memory of her past refusals within the girl. She had spent what felt like the past twenty years having intense orgasms and writhing in nothing but juicy bliss, bathed in the smoky scent of the tentacles’ lust and constantly quivering in glee. When the voice spoke she greeted it both like a new sound and an old friend, her eyes rolling back in her head as she spasmed at but the mere noise of it.

“Submit. To. Me.”

There was no more resistance left within Cassandra Cain. She was a girl that had conquered more than almost anyone else in the world; a girl born into hardship, abuse, and violence. A girl that had bested her demons, a girl that would have been singularly worthy of carrying on the mantle of the Bat.

None of that mattered now. Now, she was just another poor soul in a pod with a glazed look, a quivering, naked body, and a voice that only existed to speak two words.

“I submit! I submit!” Cassandra coiled in pleasure, and more mind-numbing orgasms were her reward as she announced as much. Tentacles found their way to reward her by stuffing into her pussy and ass, though they steered clear of her mouth so that her voice could carry forward. “I submit! I submit! I submit!”

With each word that was spoken, she could feel the ground give way around her. She could feel something immensely powerful contract around her feet, then her ankles, then her calves. She didn’t have the sense to remember the man she had witnessed being devoured so long ago, but she found herself just as eager to follow in his sinking footsteps. She was being gobbled up inch by inch while tendrils still fucked her pussy and ass, and all the while she flailed and thrashed in orgasmic, spasmic delight. She squirted, screamed, squeezed her own modest tits in glee, and watched as the wringing, squeezing pucker took her up to the center of her thighs.

“Submit! I submit!” She was sobbing in joy as the tentacles popped from her pussy and ass, making way so the mouth of this horror could close around her lap. Her figure was coated in sweat and cum, a natural glaze for whatever fiend was eating her. A perfect flavor for a perfect morsel. The purple muscles surrounding her were soon pressing at her shoulders to help the treat go down, and all the while Cassandra relished in the claustrophobic delight of it all. It was too dark now to see anything but the dim glowing light of her pod walls, too stuffy to breathe anything but the heated scent of her own squirt, and too late for any manner of rescue. She was soon to be swallowed up, and she was all too happy for the privilege.

Past her belly, past her breasts, up to her shoulders and Cassandra was still deliriously happy. Writhing and wriggling; everything below her neck was numb, but she knew it was still cumming almost constantly. When the powerful muscles of that fierce beast finally had her up to her chin, the cloudy look in Cassandra’s eyes suddenly went clear. The glazed expression was replaced with one of sudden and terrified clarity. A cruel treat from a cruel creature - Cassandra had fought harder than any ever had, and so she alone would “enjoy” a special treat.

Her mind returned to her only long enough for her to realize her position, and to look up at the writhing mass of tentacles pushing her down into that hungry, waiting mouth.

With one last, strangled scream Cassandra’s head bobbed underneath the surface of the mouth, and the pucker closed almost instantly after.

Cassandra Cain was gone, and in the final instant she was tormented with the knowledge that she had ridden countless climaxes into oblivion. But moreover, she was swallowed with the echoing sound of a sinister voice in her mind, a sound that chased her into the abyss.

“They will submit, as well.”

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Whew! Definitely a darker story than my usual fair. That's different, but what isn't different is that I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Every day in December brings something new from me! [Follow me on tumblr to stay abreast!](http://dracedomino.tumblr.com)


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